


Moments in Time

by Lara_Bee, Macx



Series: Relived [12]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:10:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lara_Bee/pseuds/Lara_Bee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>what the title says...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Proximity

 

It was one of those shore leaves that was too short to really do some actual kicking back and relaxing, but it was long enough to unwind in other ways. And none of them meant a hotel room, a Do Not Disturb sign and room service. Trip Tucker grinned as he walked through the streets and alleys of the capital of the planet, enjoying the freedom, the lack of responsibility for a whole damn ship and her engine, and the simple pleasure of having his lover at his side. No hiding, no following regulations, no uniforms.  
No ranks.  
Not that it had bothered them in the past, but aboard Enterprise, on duty, there were no private moments like these. Well, Malcolm wasn't into holding hands in public and Trip hadn't expected it either. But it was simply having the man at his side, being able to touch him without thinking about what he was doing where, and stealing little kisses here or there that made this day special.  
N'gebo was a sprawling city twice the size of New York with skyscrapers that would make the old founding fathers of skyscraperhood weep in adoration. The towers, columns and oddly shaped constructions made for an impressive skyline and the sunlight caught the millions of windows, reflecting it, creating wonderful patterns and displays.  
"I heard the diorama shows at the Museum of Natural Arts are impressive," Malcolm remarked as they consulted their map to check where they were.  
"Sittin' down sounds nice just about now."  
Reed chuckled. "Getting old?"  
"Mah feet are killin' me, if ya hafta know," Tucker drawled, accent thickening.  
"You are getting old, hm?"  
Trip feigned an attack and Malcolm moved back, effectively trapping himself against the river embankment wall. Tucker pressed himself briefly against his lover, stealing a kiss. None of the other tourists or natives bothered. The Ganan were a multicultural people, openly inviting whoever wanted to visit, and there wasn't a grain of prejudice to be found so far.  
"C'mon," Trip murmured. "Let's see the show."

*

The room grew dark and Malcolm leaned back against the jeans clad legs of his lover, sighing in content. It felt so good to be just himself. No rank, no responsibility, no one who knew them. Just two men enjoying the sights.  
Rows of benches lined the theater. It was bowl-shaped, the benches rising on an incline like an amphitheater, and the two Humans had settled down in one of the back rows, with Trip on the last bench, back against the wall. Malcolm had chosen to be in front of him. He felt Trip's hands on his shoulder and wasn't able to suppress the small shudder that innocent little gesture awoke. Due to different shifts they hadn't been able to spend much quality time together in the last weeks, so now all Malcolm wanted was to enjoy the visit to N'gebo with his lover, see some sights and afterwards - well, that would be seen.  
It wasn't that much later Malcolm realized that something in Trip's touch had subtly changed. The hands were no longer resting motionlessly on his shoulders but were kneading the muscles slightly, thumbs caressing the exposed skin of his neck ever so gently in a featherlike touch. Trip had parted his legs and Malcolm had slipped between them, resting now comfortably against his lover's stomach, which gave him the opportunity to notice the smallest change in Trip's breathing. Right now it had increased slightly, every breath teasing his earlobe. The small movement of Trip's thumbs hadn't changed, the tiny friction against the oversensitive skin of his neck making Malcolm shudder involuntarily, and he noticed absentmindedly the odd way his pants seemed to shrink. He was glad that he had decided to wear a loose sweater all of a sudden. It felt like a light tickle, combined with a mild itch and the firm strokes of strong fingers. Oh Lord....  
A part of his mind wanted nothing more than to grab Trip Tucker, whirl him around and kiss him senseless before - well. Another part just kept him sitting there, leaning against the man he loved more than life itself and enjoying the little display of affection. Besides, Trip had looked forward to the show, and he didn't want to spoil his lover's fun.  
Malcolm inhaled sharply when the tantalizing strokes elicited another shudder of pleasure, leaning even closer against his lover.  
Close, Malcolm mused, show long forgotten. They were together for about three years now, and he felt close to Trip. Hell, he was close to Trip. The only person he finally had gotten close to. It was a precious gift, something he treasured and knew the value of. It was priceless.  
Malcolm reached up and took one of Trip's hand, placing a small kiss on the palm and letting it slip into his sweater. He felt Trip gasp silently himself, but he didn't withdraw. Tucker's finger barely moved, fingertips gently caressing the soft skin of Malcolm's chest, and Reed let his head sink back against the other man's chest, closing his eyes. If it was up to him, this moment would never end. Besides, he would get real problems as soon as it did. Moving would probably cause deep embarrassment. Trip nuzzled at his ear and a light kiss was placed on his temple. Maybe ending this moment wasn't such a bad idea after all? They could certainly move this to a more intimate place and do - well, more intimate things. Malcolm stirred a little at that thought, trying to adjust himself without being too obvious.  
"Mal?" Trip's softly whispered question pulled him out of his thoughts.  
"Hmm?"  
"How long do you intend to stay here?"  
Malcolm looked around, confused, only to notice that except for them the room was already empty.  
The embarrassment doubled and he heard Tucker's slight chuckle.  
"Uh... " he stammered.  
Trip chuckled softly, but didn't move, only increased the soft seductive movement of his fingertips, hand slipping even deeper into Malcolm's shirt.  
"I for my part have some plans for the rest of the night. How 'bout you? Care to join me?" he teased.  
"Trip?"  
"Hm?"  
"You know I love you?"  
"Love you, too," Trip replied hoarsely, nipping at his neck. The teeth scraping over his skin had Malcolm jump and bite back a moan.  
"Trip?" he managed.  
"What?" came the seductive whisper.  
"If you don't stop right now ..."  
"Then what?" Another nip.  
"I'll never manage to get up without ...."  
Trip stopped for a second and chuckled again before slowly removing his hand, placing another soft kiss on Malcolm's neck. "Couldn't have that, love."  
Reed felt a tremor race through him, yearning for the hand to return. But he knew he would lose it completely if Trip touched him again. The engineer got up and bent over, pressing a kiss against Malcolm's lips, then held out one hand. Reed took it, letting himself get pulled up, right against the taller man.  
"Trip," he gasped, the movement of pants against his arousal painfully erotic.  
"Yes?" Tucker breathed, arms wrapped around him.  
Malcolm shuddered, screwing his eyes shut. "Need to leave."  
"My thought's exactly."  
The walked out of the theater and Reed clenched his jaw as the too tight pants gave him more than just a passing problem. He breathed a sigh of relief when they finally managed to hail a cab. Trip's hand settling on his thigh and stroking it gently didn't help ease the tension, but the stimuli weren't as bad as the neck rub.  
"Home?" Tucker asked softly.  
"Definitely."  
He gave Malcolm's leg another squeeze and it earned him a half-hearted glare. Malcolm was really suffering here and Trip had no intention to ease it just yet.  
"Then let's go home."


	2. Soul's Home

 

"Hi, handsome. Long time no see."  
Malcolm felt a hand slipping around his waist, another one cupping his neck, and he was pushed back against the wall while a hard body pressed against him. A pair of lips sought out his mouth in a fervent kiss. Startled by the unexpected erotic attack, Reed stiffened for a moment, his gasp giving his assailant the chance to slip his tongue into his mouth. After a split second of dumbfounded shock he realized what was going on, and his heart skipped a beat in utter shock.  
Jeff.  
Bloody Hell!

The bar was one of the more lively ones, decorated in the style of a an old Irish pub. A live band played in one corner, there was a vid screen mounted against the back wall, showing a soccer match, and the smell of warm food and beer mixed with the scent of the old wooden tables and stools. Two waitresses controlled the crowd, together with the barkeep who kept refilling glasses with beer and nonalcoholic substances.  
Trip sipped at his cold beer, looking around for his lover who had gone to get some munchies, and grinned at the scene that was enfolding not far from him. Two men, entangled in what looked like a passionate embrace, the larger blond one obviously trying to perform a tonsillectomy on the other. Except the body of the smaller, dark haired man became rigid all of a sudden and Trip almost spewed his drink onto the table when he realized that the man in question was Malcolm.  
His lover Malcolm.  
Being thoroughly kissed by another man, and from the looks of it they seemed to know each other. Well.  
Trip slammed his glass back onto the table, anger rushing through him, closely followed and then passed by jealousy. He stood abruptly, fighting the urge to rush over and slam the man against the next best wall, telling him something or other about violating private property.  
That stopped him short and Tucker drew a shuddering breath, screwing his eyes shut for a moment.  
Hell, what was he thinking? Malcolm was his lover, not his property! Since when was he so possessive? Trip clenched his teeth.  
Calm down, he told himself. No need to repeat the same mistake like with the Efil engineer. That had been bad enough already.  
He opened his eyes again, feeling another tremor, which was a mixture of still simmering anger, an even stronger bout of jealousy, and the first inklings of embarrassment.  
Malcolm was very well capable of defending himself. He was the chief of security onboard. And from what Trip could see as he came nearer, he was doing just that at the moment, having a hold on the other man's wrist that made him cringe, face showing a bolt of pain. Reed's own expression was one of cold fury, laid in with embarrassment and something Trip couldn't really determine what it was.  
The engineer cleared his throat and stepped closer, keeping the expression on his face carefully neutral.  
"Mal?"  
Reed turned his face towards him, and Trip thought he saw a flicker of something flare in those expressive, storm-cloud eyes he loved so much. Something like - fear? Trip blinked at that thought. Malcolm afraid - of him? There was a quick stab in his stomach as he watched Reed pale slightly, lips parting in a little gasp.  
"I think he got the point," Trip said calmly, nodding to the vice like grip Malcolm still had on the other man's wrist.  
"Oh."  
Malcolm let go, looking somewhat guiltily at the floor. The man was rubbing his mistreated wrist, smiling faintly.  
"No harm done, 'cept ta my self-esteem," he said wryly, clearly American. "Should've foreseen somethin' like that, since we haven't seen each other for longer now."  
"How long exactly?" Trip asked levelly, the jealousy hissing to the forefront once more.  
"More than three years, Trip," Malcolm replied, shooting him a short unreadable glance. There was an odd note in his voice, something that spoke of hidden fear and trepidation. He was expecting a reaction and steeling himself for the worst possible one.  
Tucker nodded, doing the math. More than three years, longer than they knew each other now, were a couple. Before Enterprise had left Earth.  
"Trip Tucker," he stated, stretching out a hand.  
"Jeff Fowler."  
His hand was taken, a tight warm grip, Trip noticed, giving the man a much closer look now. About his size, tanned, a light blond hair color, and vivid, dark blue eyes. He was muscular but slender, dressed in casual clothes, and smiling amiably. Trip could almost understand Malcolm. The man had something. Fowler was inspecting him, looking from Malcolm to Trip and back, obviously registering Trip's rather possessive demeanor, the way he stood close to his lover. Oh well, Malcolm was his after all...  
There it was again. The claim he felt he had on the armory officer, the possessive feelings... Malcolm Reed belonged to him. Trip wondered where it came from, when it had started. He wasn't reacting aggressively on it, but he would tell Fowler in unmistakable words that the man he had just assaulted belonged to one Trip Tucker.  
"Ya two?" Fowler asked, and smiled broadly at Malcolm's short nod. "For longer, hm? That explains it."  
"Huh?" Reed stuttered.  
This time the smile held something sad.  
"Ya look great, Malcolm. Real great. Positively glowin'. Was always wonderin'  what ya were lookin' for. Seems ya found it in the end," Jeff drawled, grinning.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Malcolm, ya were a restless soul back then. Always lookin'. I tried ta be what yer were lookin' for, but - I couldn't give it to ya. I'm happy somebody else could."  
"Jeff, what ...?" Malcolm stammered.  
Jeff gave him a lopsided grin and a short slap on the forearm when he stepped past the bewildered man. "Home, Malcolm. Ya found home." His eyes came to rest on Trip, who stood silently behind his lover. "Take care. Won't see ya around." And without another word he was gone.  
Tucker watched him go, saw him meet someone else, laughing as they greeted each other. Then the crowd swallowed them.  
"Nice guy," Trip remarked, slipping an arm around Malcolm's still rigid figure. "Not Starfleet, I assume?"  
A weak shake of the head.  
"Now, c'mon back to the table. Mah beer's getting' warm."  
Malcolm didn't move. The tension in the slender frame was almost palpable.  
"Mal?"  
"Trip, I ... that was..." the dark-haired man stammered, desperately searching for words.  
"A former lover, I assume. Nice guy, as I said," Tucker said casually. "You've got good taste. Now ... "  
"Trip?" Reed gasped.  
"Hm?"  
Malcolm held him back, looking at him with wide eyes, confusion darkening the gray orbs. Trip met the gaze calmly, showing openly what he felt.  
"Thank you," came the soft whisper.  
"What for?"  
"For not being jealous."  
Trip smiled. "Oh, but I am, don't get me wrong here. You're a damn handsome man, Mal, and that guy was a looker as well. But I know you, and I trust you. He may have been with you once, but he isn't now. And I have something he never had."  
Reed swallowed, a flicker of something showing on his features. "Which is?"  
"Your love. You. I have Malcolm Reed."  
Trip leaned over to kiss his lover gently, sensing the hesitation and uncertainty Malcolm was radiating, and he tried to wipe that away. He held him until he felt his lover relax and melt into his embrace.  
"I love you, Malcolm Reed, for three wonderful years now. And I know you love me. Fowler was right; at least for my part here. I found a home with you, and I hope that goes for you as well. I knew from the start there had been others for you," Trip murmured into one ear. "Hell, considering the way we got to know each other, there had definitely been others. Been no virgin myself."  
The last came in a teasing tone, but Malcolm stiffened slightly, knowing Trip was referring to their first meeting in a gay bar where Malcolm had picked him up - and their first night together, when neither one had bothered to ask for the other one's name. It had been one hell of a shock for both men to realize only a few hours later that they not only were both Starfleet officers but serving on the same ship. Trip being Malcolm's superior on top of that.  
Yes, there had been problems. Big and apparently insurmountable problems, but they had made it. Their relationship had survived the odds and had come out stronger. Trip believed that something bound them together, that they belonged to each other. He didn't know what it was, and he didn't question it.  
"Trip ... "  
Trip hugged him. "Shush, calm down. It's alright. I know, I was there, too, remember? I don't care for the past, love, I just care for the here and now. Besides, wanna hear something I learned from my mother? No need to fear predecessors, but beware of successors."  
"There won't be one," Malcolm said seriously. "There's only you, Trip."  
"Same here." Tucker grinned brightly and then stole a kiss. "Now, about my beer ... whoa!"  
Reed had grabbed him, pulled him down into a wet, deep kiss. He released him abruptly and Trip inhaled deeply, feeling a bit dizzy. Damn, even after three years Malcolm managed to render him into puddle with kiss attacks like that.  
"Only you," Reed repeated, then smiled. "Love you."  
Trip mirrored the smile with a brilliant one of his own. They walked back to their table, where Trip's beer had grown warm already. Around them, the pub's clientele enjoyed their off time, just like the two Starfleet officers.


	3. Inducement

 

The moment Malcolm Reed entered his lover’s quarters, he started feeling hot. Both literally and… well. It could have something to do with the temperature of the room and the current state of clothing of one Trip Tucker. Or rather the lack of it, that was.  
Trip was laying on his bed, dressed only in his tight blue boxers, reading something. A small sheen of sweat was glistening on his skin when he looked up at Malcolm with blue eyes that matched the temperature. Reed felt a rush of heat race through his veins. Suddenly he felt definitely overdressed, while his heart seemed to decide to increase its beats. Not that he wasn’t accustomed to seeing his lover like this, mind you, but they hadn’t been able to spend too much time together in the past few weeks, and Malcolm had to admit he was getting – hungry.  
“Mal!” Trip exclaimed happily, bouncing off the bed and taking his lover in a tight embrace, lips meeting in a fierce kiss that left Malcolm breathless when Trip let him go.  
“Whoa… Trip…  that’s ..” he stammered, overwhelmed by the greeting and the visual input.  
“I know. It’s kinda hot in here, dontcha think?” Trip’s eyes twinkled as he gently pushed Malcolm to sit down on the bed. “Want somethin’ to drink?”  
“Sure,”  he managed, suddenly aware of his dry mouth.  
Malcolm had no idea what exactly was going on here. Then again, did he really want to know. He chuckled silently. With Trip, there were always surprises.  
A glass of something cool was pressed into his hand. It was simple water, sparkling, with ice. It prickled in his mouth as he thirstily downed half of it. Trip smiled at him.  
Malcolm’s body temperature seemed to rise another notch. Damn that sexy smile!  
“More?” Tucker breathed.  
Malcolm swallowed convulsively. “I… ah… Trip…?”  
He watched breathlessly as Trip sank down on one knee in front of him, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his pants. Trip laid his hands on Malcolm’s knees and, slowly slipping his hands between his thighs, parted his legs, not for a second looking away from his face. Malcolm felt his heart hammer in his chest. He realized he was already breathing hard, though Trip hadn’t done anything yet.  
Anything?  
Trip was kneeling in front of him, looking up to him from darkened blue eyes, fingertips oh so slowly gliding over the inside of his thighs toward his groin.  
Anything?  
Not really! This sight definitely was something, and Malcolm couldn’t help moaning when Trip’s finger gently brushed over the bulge in his pants, wandering up his stomach, carefully unbuttoning his shirt in the process. Trip hadn’t even touched a single inch of the exposed skin, or kissed him more than once, yet Malcolm felt as if he was ready to explode then and there.  
Hell, was that still normal? They were a couple for so long now… the newness had turned into something different. They had grown close, had explored each other in more than just the physical way. Their relationship wasn’t just sex, the erotic kick they got out of each other. No, it had transformed into a bond that was based on a lot more.  
Which didn’t mean they didn’t have mind-blowing sex, it just wasn’t that a simple glance from Trip got Malcolm all fired up and into embarrassing situations.  
The next moment every rational though fled him when Trip finally did touch his skin, slipping the shirt from his shoulders down his arms. Feathery fingertips trailed over the slightly sweaty skin. Malcolm threw his head back when those talented lips started to nibble at his neck, fingers ghosting over his sides and chest, finding a nipple and caressing it into hardness. Malcolm moaned softly, hands flailing to touch his lover.  
Suddenly the touch was gone, and Reed blinked in surprise.  
“Don’t move.” Trip smiled mischievously.  
“Wouldn’t think of it,” Malcolm breathed. “Where’re you going?”  
“I brought somethin’ fer you. Only for you… Almost forgot.”  
Malcolm heard Trip rummaging around and used the moment to completely slip out of his shirt. It really was hot in Trip’s quarters, and Malcolm wondered why. He appreciated warm rooms, opposed to frigid cold ones, but this was just a little too much, even for him.  
“Trip, could you switch down the temperature a little?” he requested.  
“Too hot, love?”  
“A bit.”  
“All right. But I bet that won’t change,”  Tucker teased, laughter in his voice.  
“Oh?”  
“Yep. Now, close your eyes, will you?”  
Malcolm was a bit confused. “Trip….?”  
“Just trust me, love. You’ll like it.”  
He trusted the other man. He really did. So Malcolm Reed closed his eyes, feeling a slight tension take a hold of him.  
Trip sank back down onto his knees in front of Malcolm, fingertips running smoothly over his bare chest, and Malcolm couldn’t help shuddering with the sensation that caused. All of a sudden he felt Trip’s mouth on his chest, his tongue licking over one hardening nipple, and he gasped in surprise, back arching into the contact.  
It was cold! Hot and cold at the same moment, Malcolm felt sweat running down his back, tickling.  
“Trip … my god … what….” he gasped.  
“Shhh.”  
Trip’s mouth found his, and as Malcolm parted his lips to take his lover tongue in, the literally sweet and cold sensation washing over his tongue explained it. Malcolm took in everything he could get, every soft touch of fingertips on his body, every friction of skin against skin when Trip pushed a little. His arms came up and he wrapped them around his lover, keeping Trip on top of him when he sank back.  
“Where did you get that from?” he whispered when Trip pulled back a little.  
“Top secret,” Trip murmured, dipping his finger in the bowl of pineapple ice cream he had placed on the mattress, running it slowly over Malcolm’s heated body, leaving a cold path behind, only to follow that path with his hot tongue.  
The path finally led him down south, and Malcolm writhed underneath his lover when Trip slowly undid his pants, tossing them carelessly aside. He cupped the straining hardness that presented itself, hands slowly playing on it, and Malcolm shivered.  
Oh Lord…  
They had tried out a few wilder things in the past, but never this.  
“You planning on….?”  
“Oh yes,” Trip answered the unspoken question, and took another spoonful of the ice cream.  
It made Malcolm buck and almost scream under the double sensation of cold slowly turning into hot when Trip’s lips closed around his hard member, almost coming on the spot. His mouth opened into a soundless cry, a faint gasp, and his hands clenched into the bed sheets. He barely felt Trip’s hands wander between his legs and further, until a slick – and cold – finger slipped into him.  
His brain was starting a violent meltdown, but he fought it, needed some last control before he surrendered completely.  
“Trip … I … be with me …” he whimpered.  
“Your pant is my command,” his lover whispered, sliding up his body and starting a thorough exploration of already known territory, kissing Malcolm fiery, sweet and cold.  
“Please!” he groaned.  
“Don’t be so impatient…”  
Malcolm shivered, feeling the hard body of his lover pressed against him, then inside him, brushing over the special spot that made him forget about the rest of the world over and over again, until he felt his spine melting into the well known sensation of blazing lava, running down his back and exploding somewhere deep inside him. It was sending him gasping and screaming over the edge into sweet oblivion where nothing else existed but himself and the man he loved, the man who was buried deep inside his body, sharing his completion and crying out himself.  
When his hammering heart decided to slow down and Malcolm was able to register the outside world again, register the hands of Trip that were circling lazily over the sweat slick skin of his chest from behind while carefully cleaning him up, he sighed deeply.  
“Hell, Malcolm,” Trip whispered, nuzzling his neck, “that was hot.”  
“Literally,” Malcolm sighed contently, “Say, have you anything left for dessert?”  
“You need dessert?!”  
“Who needs dessert? I want it.”  
“Mal, I really love it when you say that.”  
Reed growled.  
“C’me here, you … “


	4. Midnight

 

Malcolm Reed walked towards his quarters. Well, to say he walked was an understatement; it was more a crawling than anything else. It was close to midnight already, and the ship’s armory officer felt beyond tired. In fact, he felt bone tired, dirty and hungry, and he yearned for a shower, something to eat and his bed. Malcolm sighed slightly. At this late night hour he’d manage the first and the last, but no idea of getting food now. He sighed again. Not that he didn’t actually mind, he was accustomed to working overtime, getting little sleep and even lesser meals. At least it kept him in shape.  
Reed gladly let the door to his cabin swoosh closed behind him, thankful to be ‘home’ again. Shower; nice, long, hot shower sounded like heaven right now.  
Something laying on his small table caught his attention, something that didn’t belong here, and Malcolm stepped closer, frowning. It turned into a warm and surprised smile when he realized.  
The small note on the cover written in Trip’s handwriting said: ‘I knew you’d be hungry. Enjoy.’ When Malcolm lifted it, he found two sandwiches, one with turkey, one with cheese, with salad and everything. The whole enchilada, Malcolm mused, astonished about the way Trip had thought about him. Taking care of him, to be precise. A vacuum flask was standing there, too, and Malcolm opened it, curious about the contents. He sniffed carefully and shook his head, grinning. That was Trip Tucker for you, oh yes. Hot chocolate, and from the smell of it Trip had added just a little bit of cinnamon.  
Malcolm wasn’t exactly a fan of hot chocolate, but he liked the way Trip prepared it, and he knew that Trip had known it would let him drift into sleep more easily. Malcolm put the flask aside and headed for the shower. First things first.

After being clean again, Malcolm felt much better, almost human again. His stomach growled, reminding him there were still things to take care of. It, for example. And thanks to Trip, it wouldn’t be disappointed. A light midnight snack was exactly what Malcolm needed right now.

Reed sank back into his pillow, stomach filled, and enjoyed his late night ‘drink’. It was an almost perfect ending to a long day, and he felt sleepy and sated. An almost perfect ending, he mused, something was still missing…  
Well, that could be changed.  
Malcolm grabbed a clean uniform slipped into shirt and sweater, and left his quarters, looking forward to the perfect ending he had in mind.

Malcolm keyed in the door code and slipped cautiously into the dark quarters. He didn’t need to switch on the light, he knew this room by instinct. And thank goodness its owner knew him by instinct, otherwise he would have looked into the business end of a phase pistol by now, Reed mused. He slipped out of his pants and shirt and under the blanket as carefully as he could. A stirring of the body told him he hadn’t been as good as he had intended to be.  
“Mal?” a sleepy voice rasped.  
“Hmmm, it’s me. Go back to sleep,” he whispered.  
“Whatcha doin’ here?”  
“You invited me.”  
“Ah did?”  
“Yep.”  
“Okay.”  
An arm came sneaking around his waist, hand laying on his chest, and Malcolm took the invited hand, entwining his fingers with his lover’s. Soon Trip’s steady deep breaths told him that the other man was asleep again, most certainly without being really awake. Malcolm curled into Trip’s warm and pliant body, sighing in deep content, feeling at home at last. The perfect ending. He snuggled closer into his lover’s embrace and closed his eyes, dozing off into sleep within a second.


	5. Unrestrained

 

He knew it was late. He should be sleeping. Actually, he had slept. For about two hours. Curled up against his lover, feeling the familiar warmth in his arms, the muscular, hard, very male body. Someone he knew so intimately, he didn’t know if there was a spot he hadn’t explored before. He had fallen asleep in those strong arms, hearing the regular breaths, the beat of his heart, and it had lulled him into the welcome darkness.  
Now Trip Tucker was awake, sitting at the foot of the bed he had shared so often before with Malcolm Reed, eyes on the still sleeping armory officer. Malcolm lay on his side, snuggled into the pillows, one arm flung over the sheets as if he was still embracing Trip. The other arm was curled under his head. Dark strands hung across his forehead, his hair unruly.  
Trip smiled.  
Unruly. Not like the officer, Lieutenant Reed, but very much Malcolm. Not much of the officer left when he looked at him like that. Not really. Asleep, Malcolm relaxed his fascade, became another person. Hell, he turned into someone else the moment they were off duty, alone. Only he got to see his lover this way. In the morning, tousled and half awake. After making love, flushed and covered in sweat, eyes glowing. Sharing thoughts and laughter, stories of good times and bad, of friends and family. Those were moments no one else would ever be privy to, and he was proud of it.  
This night had been special for Trip. He didn’t know why, but he had felt the need to be with Malcolm, to have him, not let him go. Reed had accommodated him, had turned over control completely, had let his blond lover call the shots. Trip wouldn’t call it domination; neither of them dominated in this relationship. Malcolm was a little whirlwind, his little whirlwind, at times. He could completely flatten Tucker with his energy, the way he dragged him into the abyss of myriads of sensations, of utter pleasure, of satisfaction and bliss. But he also easily sat back and let Trip take over, be on the receiving end. And Trip loved making the smaller man squirm with need, cry out his desire, plead and beg, and finally reach his climax.  
Last night, he had asked Malcolm to give in right from the start. He had demanded it, actually, and the kissing duel had turned into one of rough and demanding power-play.  
Trip looked down at his folded legs. Somehow, after they had returned from this world of bliss, now that he had had some rest, he felt a small coil of unease in his stomach.  
He hadn’t stopped at simply pressing his lover onto the bed, tearing the clothes off, driving him insane with kissing and nipping at all the erotic spots. He had actually asked Malcolm to submit to him with bonds. Reed had agreed, yes, but Trip couldn’t shake the feeling that he had gone too far. Blindfolded, bound to the bed, Malcolm had been unable to escape. Of course, had he voiced his unease, his protests, Trip would have stopped. Right?  
Tucker bit his lower lip. He would have stopped. He would…. He loved Malcolm more than life, he never would consciously hurt him, and Reed had done the same to him before. But back then Trip had asked for it. It didn’t mean his lover would like it, too. Especially since he was the security officer aboard, someone who had a mild streak of paranoia, who would be at Trip’s mercy.  
Throughout their relationship they had discovered that there were things one liked and the other didn’t. It was accepted. Had Malcolm really liked it?  
He trusts me, he thought. Our relationship is built on trust.  
And he had liked it! his memory insisted.  
 Malcolm’s climax had been a rush to both of them. Holding him at the edge for as long as he could get away with it, Trip had teased and tortured the bound man, making him beg, writhe on the bed, and finally scream out his release. Trip had followed, buried deep inside the smaller man, collapsing on top and kissing the kiss-bruised lips gently. He had felt the answering touch, the moan of pleasure vibrating against his tongue. When he had freed Malcolm, Reed had wrapped his arms around him, murmuring softly how much he loved him.  
So had he forced him to do something or not?  
Trip scrubbed a hand over his eyes, feeling tiredness sweep over him. He just didn’t know and somehow he was reluctant to approach Malcolm, ask him.  
What if…?  
“Trip?”  
The sleep-heavy voice startled him and he looked up. He found his gaze caught by two gray eyes blinking away the remnants of whatever he had dreamed of.  
“Something wrong?”  
Trip shook his head. “No,” he reassured his lover quickly. “I was just… uh… I woke up,” he finished lamely.  
Malcolm frowned, studying the other man. “Trip…”  
Tucker sighed as he recognized the unmistakable ‘don’t screw with me, I know it’s not okay’ tone of voice. Malcolm sat up and Trip saw him wince briefly. Damn.  
“Trip?”  
“’S nothin’.”  
“Sure.” Malcolm scooted closer. “Want to try again?” he offered.  
He met the dark gray gaze in the handsome face. “Mal, about last night…” He stopped and lowered his gaze, looking at his lover’s wrists. No marks. Thank you god; no marks. “Did I hurt you?”  
There was a moment of surprised silence. “What?” Malcolm finally stuttered. “Trip… you have never hurt me when we are together. Never. What’s going on?”  
“Last night, I was kinda rough…”  
Strong fingers touched him, encircled one wrist. “Never too rough.”  
“The bonds…”  
“I didn’t protest.”  
“Would you have?” Trip whispered, needing to know.  
Sometimes, the early days of their relationship came back to haunt him, unbidden. Back then, Malcolm hadn’t said a word about his own discomfort, about his fears. He had ‘served’. Gawd, how much he hated himself for overlooking that little fact. Even today it gave him a stab in the stomach. Yes, they had worked through it, had cleared the air, but it still stuck to his memories like a bad chewing gum.  
Back then he had hurt his future lover. Unconsciously… but he had.  
“Trip,” Reed said slowly, voice serious, firm. “I wouldn’t give my consent to something I don’t feel comfortable with. Not any more. Not with you… us. It’s in the past, and it was a mistake. I won’t repeat it ever again. Believe me, I would have let you know if anything we were doing would have been too much; or had hurt. I trust you.”  
Trip looked up, a hesitant smile on his lips.  
“Is that what kept you awake?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Because this time you had bound me, not the other way around?”  
A nod. Trip had liked it. It had been an awkward confession to himself and later to Malcolm, but he had liked the silk bonds around his hands, the feeling of helplessness, as well as power. Power because having Malcolm impaled on him, head thrown back, had been the most powerful, erotic sight he had ever beheld. Without even touching the man, he had turned him into this…  
Malcolm sighed and closed the last distance between them. He leaned forward and gave Trip an almost chaste kiss.  
“I love you, Trip. I trust you with my body and soul. I liked what we did last night. It was… strangely erotic”  
“I never thought about what I did,” Trip murmured, eyes evading his lover’s. “Never even thought about a safe word…”  
“I was safe with you, Trip,” Malcolm repeated.  
“But I never gave the option of you not likin’ what I do a thought. I just went ahead and got all… aggressive…. Oh gawd….”  
Reed’s hand squeezed his arm slightly. “I didn’t protest.”  
Trip remembered chanting ‘Mine, mine, mine’ again and again as he drove himself into the supine man, enjoying each gasp, each whispered ‘yours’, each groan. He reached out now, tracing the faint mark on Malcolm’s shoulder where he had bruised the skin when he had bitten him as he had climaxed. Malcolm caught the hesitant hand.  
“What triggered this… possession?” he wanted to know, voice soft.  
Tucker swallowed. “Ah don’t know…” he confessed. “It was a feelin’. We didn’t have much time alone lately. An’ I was always sharin’ ya with the others… I just needed ya. Real badly. All for myself. Ah wanted to… be with you. Deeply.”  
Reed tugged at his hand and Trip reluctantly allowed him to pull him onto the mattress. Malcolm pushed him gently down and then leaned over him, smiling.  
“You have me. All the time. I take it as a compliment, too.” He placed a kiss onto Trip’s forehead, cheekbones and nose, finally licking over the lips. Trip opened them, letting him in, and they kissed slowly.  
Maybe it had been the grueling work hours lately, the constant problems with the ship’s systems. Maybe it had been something inside Trip himself. Maybe it had been a primal need. Tucker didn’t know. It had the feeling of… well, like trying to reaffirm an invisible bond between them.  
“As long as we don’t need this to get off at all,” Malcolm murmured as he nibbled along his jaw to his ear.  
“All I need is you,” Trip whispered. He wrapped his arms tightly around the smaller man. “Just you.”  
Malcolm only smiled warmly. “You know, you have me. As long as you want.”  
“Forever,” Trip murmured and closed his eyes, sighing into the dark hair.


	6. Pressure

 

Someone had to be pissed off at him.  
Someone really, really hated him.  
No other explanation possible.  
Trip Tucker stalked down the corridor, looking to all the world like he had just crawled about half of Enterprise’s major ducts  and tubes – those that were the dirtiest. His uniform was wrinkled, stained, dirty. His face was streaked with dark smudges, the hair standing up on end, and his hands weren’t fit for shaking, let alone touching anything edible. Or clean.  
All in all, he was a mess.  
Quite simple.  
And similarly simple was the fact that someone had to hate him.  
It had started with a simple burst power line, which had, within ten minutes of its discovery, blown several grids, ruined the hangar door release system and totaled Chef’s kitchen. Nothing was working. Nothing. As in… not a single machine.  
Trip, immersed in the machine to fail first, had sent some of his people to deal with Chef and the kitchen, and he had thought it would be the end of it, but oh no. Not at all. Not only had they gotten repeated failures on all their tests to power up that section of the ship, they had managed to blow some more. In the end, gravity had failed on half the ship for fully five minutes and they had to take all the important systems off the main power lines, rerouting and remodeling whatever they couldn’t live without for a day or two.  
Which was a lot.  
So when the warp core had started to fluctuate, things had really gotten hairy. Trip couldn’t remember much of the eight hours of pure work and stress following the first serious fluctuation that had nearly totaled the left nacelle, but he remembered the eight after that.  
Chasing a virus.  
Who would have believed that a few seconds of contact with an alien ship could transmit what was a benign security program for the Thanto and a seriously destructive bug for Enterprise? Enterprise had barely managed to limp after the Thanto cruiser that they had met just a day earlier, and Archer had been more than relieved to discover that the Thanto engineer could help them destroy the bug.  
But not before the phase cannons had overloaded and the armory had been almost blown to smithereens.  
Now Enterprise and its crew were bug free but with massive repairs to do.  
Trip ran a grimy hand through his even more grimy hair. The warp engine was doing fine. It had been on top of the repair list. Chef had learned to work his kitchen with an emergency generator, keeping meals simple but still delicious. Replicators were able to come up with simple drinks, too. Anything more fancy would probably end up as a surprise to the crewman requesting it. The bridge was in working order, though some systems liked to glitch. Weapons were… well, according to Malcolm Reed, Enterprise shouldn’t run into any hostiles any time soon because he couldn’t guarantee what happened if they fired their phase cannons or a torpedo. Throwing potatoes would probably have more effect than their torpedoes.  
Archer looked just as harassed and tired as everyone, but at least he wasn’t forced to crawl around tight compartments, dislocating every disc in his spine.  
Tucker stepped into the turbo lift and closed his eyes as he rode down. All he wanted, all he craved with every fiber of his being, was a shower and a bed.  
His head was killing him.  
His shoulders were hard as rocks.  
His muscles ached.  
His whole body needed an overhaul.  
And on top of it, he was hungry. He hadn't had a decent meal since the beginning of this crisis.  
Speaking of decent… he hadn't seen much of Malcolm either, for the same reason. He missed his lover's warmth and support, his simple presence. But with not even time enough to sleep in his quarters for more than four hours, take a shower, shove some food between his jaws, there had been no hope to get quality time with Malcolm, too.  
Walking into his quarters, Trip briefly leaned against the wall, each beat of his heart resulting in an echo inside his head. The dull throbbing of his earlier headache quickly became a full blown migraine. He rolled his shoulders and the twinge went down his whole back, making him grimace.  
By the time he had showered, Trip felt as if someone was stabbing him in the left side of his head with an icepick. The migraine pain seemed to be centered there, simultaneously moving down his neck to his shoulders, causing them to stiffen up.  
He wearily dragged himself off to bed, barely managing to strip off the towel before collapsing on top of his blankets. But sleep proved impossible, his throbbing head and stiff neck unable to let him relax. Trip almost blindly reached for the small bottle of pain medication he kept stashed close to the bed, swallowing two pills.  
But the pain kept him from falling asleep.  
Twisting and tossing in his bed, he willed himself to relax, make the pain killers work, but things only grew worse. Trip groaned softly and rolled onto his back, hands starting to massage his temples. God, it hurt!  
A cool hand touching his startled him and he blinked blearily. Someone had entered his quarters and he hadn’t even heard it. Well, there weren’t many people with his personal access code.  
“Malcolm?” he murmured as he recognized the gentle touch.  
“Headache?” Reed asked sympathetically.  
“One whopper offit,” Trip answered woozily. “More like a migraine. 's like the pain started in mah head ‘nd went down to mah neck ‘n shoulders."  
Malcolm soothingly touched his forehead and Trip enjoyed the contact. Those wonderful fingers began to stroke and massage over his forehead, temples and scalp.  
“Feels wonderful,” he sighed.  
Reed smiled and while Trip’s eyes were slowly sliding shut, he also discovered that his lover looked a lot worse for wear, too. Unshaven and tired, the sleeves of his uniform rolled up, the zipper pulled down to mid-chest, and the normally so neat hair was tousled.  
“Mal, you don’t havta do that. You’re dead on yer feet, too,” he said softly.  
Reed stopped briefly and Trip felt an immediate loss. It was only briefly, because he felt the mattress dip under a familiar weight. Malcolm, stripped out of his uniform, settled down beside him.  
“But I want to,” came the calm reply.  
And then the hands were back. Soothing, caressing, massaging. Trip settled against the other body, relaxing into the warmth he knew so well, feeling Malcolm’s heat through the underwear Here he was, completely and utterly naked, his lover almost fully clothed, and they weren’t even attempting a seduction. His body was releasing all the stored tension little by little and then those miracle hands reached his shoulders, Tucker was halfway off into dreamland.  
Muscles unknotted, warmth suffused him, and soft moans of released pain left his lips.  
“Good?” Malcolm asked.  
“Very.”  
"Sleep, luv."  
Trip grunted softly, almost there anyway. He lost himself in the massage, the hypnotic movement of fingers against skin, how the pain flared briefly and then diffused into pleasure.  
And finally into nothingness.  
   
 

He woke to a feeling of pure bliss. One night's sleep hadn't really cured all the aches and pains, but his headache was gone and he could live with stiff shoulders. He had had them on and off anyway. Life of an engineer. Crawling around in tight spaces was part of the job description.  
Stretching, Trip sighed in pleasure. He was alone in bed, but that didn't really alarm him. Malcolm wouldn't have left if not for a very good reason, and deducted from the covered tray on the table, getting breakfast had been such a reason. Very good, Sherlock.  
The door to the bathroom opened and Trip was treated to the mouthwatering view of his lover, naked except for a towel slung around his hips. Malcolm's hair was still damp and a strand hung roguishly into his forehead.  
"Must still be dreamin'," Trip drawled lazily, crossing his arms behind his back and openly leering at his partner.  
Malcolm smiled, running a hand through his hair, which resulted in another strand bouncing forward.  
"I believe you are very much awake," the lieutenant answered and walked over to the bed.  
Trip reached out and grabbed the towel, giving it a gentle tug. It didn't open, but became slightly undone. Malcolm sank forward and kissed him softly.  
"Good morning, sleepy head," he murmured. "Hungry?"  
Trip kissed along the clean-shaven jaw. "Ravenous."  
"I meant food."  
"Me, too."  
Reed scooted back and turned to get the tray. It treated Trip to another nice view: the wonderful behind of his lover.  
Breakfast was a quick affair. Trip wolfed down the slices of toast, the bacon and the scrambled eggs, while Malcolm just ate what looked like muesli. All the time, blue eyes were on the half-naked body. He couldn't get the tray out of the way fast enough.  
"Had enough?" Malcolm teased.  
"Not by a long shot," Trip growled. "Dessert."  
Malcolm gave a gasp of token protest as the blond assaulted him, then he gave as good as he got. Lips clashed in a passionate battle and the pesky towel finally flew half way across the room to leave Trip's treasure open and accessible. He didn't have any scruples using his talents on it either. Malcolm moaned and pushed into his hands as Trip claimed his lips in a deep kiss.  
"Love you," he whispered. "Want you."  
"You have me. You always will," was the equally whispered reply.  
Trip briefly rested his forehead against his lover's, enjoying the full body contact, the naked form underneath him. Strong hands massaged his back and he groaned in pleasure.  
"You're hard as a rock," Malcolm commented.  
"Ah hope so," he drawled.  
Malcolm chuckled and ground his hips against him.  
Trip got the hint.

* * *

Trip basked in the afterglow of one very hot encounter. He felt… sated, exhausted… happy. Warmth suffused him, undoing all those knots and cramps, and he snuggled close to the other body in their shared bed. Malcolm's face fairly glowed with satisfied need and sexual pleasure. Trip nuzzled the nipple closest to him and received a half-hearted squirm in return.  
"Trip…" Malcolm protested faintly.  
He kissed the nipple, then scooted upward and did the same with the inviting lips.  
"By the way," Malcolm mumbled as they parted. "Merry Christmas."  
"Huh?"  
"Yesterday. The 25th."  
"Oh."  
Trip couldn't say he had kept track of time. At least not when the whole ship had started to come apart around him. Now that he had time to order his brain, he faintly remembered something like Christmas.  
Malcolm chuckled. "Yes. Oh."  
"Merry Christmas then, Mal."  
This time the kiss was deeper, a real and proper Christmas kiss, Trip thought, relishing it.  
"So… did you get me a present?" he asked, eyes alight.  
"I did."  
"Great!"  
"You unpacked it yesterday."  
He frowned. "That was all?"  
Malcolm laughed out loud and pushed himself up on his elbows. "All? All?! My dear man, you got more than you actually deserved."  
"What's that supposed to mean, hm? I'm suffering here. Can you say overworked?" Trip countered with amusement tingeing the outrage.  
"All part of the job."  
"No way."  
"Way. Very much so."  
"You really didn't get me a present?" Trip almost put a whine in it.  
"Nope."  
"Evil."  
"But you love me anyway."  
"Revising that at the moment."  
Malcolm grinned and kissed his lover's nose . "It's in my quarters. We'll get it later."  
Trip's face broke into a grin. "I knew it," he crowed and wrapped his arms around the other man.  
"So… about mine?" Malcolm prodded.  
"What about it?"  
The Brit raised an eyebrow and Trip huffed.  
"You don't deserve one."  
"I do."  
"Oh really? How come?"  
"I have to put up with you. Have done so for a while now."  
"That's called love. Doesn't come with a price tag or in packages."  
Malcolm grinned. "With you, Charles Tucker, it's also a lot of patience, tolerance and good humor."  
"Not true."  
"You're not easy to maintain."  
"Maintain? I'm not some engine, I'll have ya know!"  
Malcolm smiled down at the indignant expression on his lover's face. "No, you're a very precious man, who requires a lot of attention and love."  
"That's more like it."  
"And sufferance."  
"Arrrr, you!" Trip exclaimed and pushed up, managing to upset Reed's balancing and tackling him to the mattress.  
Malcolm laughed in delight and, after a moment's hesitation, Trip joined in.  
"You're impossible," he murmured. "Completely and utterly… but I love ya anyway."  
"So… my present?" Malcolm needled.  
"Later," Trip murmured and leaned forward, kissing him.  
"So you get to play with yours, but I have to wait?"  
"'xactly… An' you said this isn't it, hm? So fair's fair…" More kisses followed.  
Malcolm laughed and pushed his lover away, making a scolding noise. "Charles Tucker, what am I supposed to do with you?"  
"Ah hope that's rhetoric, Mal."  
"Sometimes, I'm not so sure…" Reed's eyes twinkled and Trip sighed.  
Then he reached out and playfully ruffled the thick, dark hair.  
"Gah!" Malcolm exclaimed and squirmed away.  
Trip laughed and quickly kissed the mock-upset man. They drew it out for minutes, settling down after a while.  
"Shift today?" Trip asked, caressing the lean side.  
"Gamma. You?"  
"Delta. I think. Uh… maybe even double. Brain was mush yesterday." He sighed. "Need to check on her status, too."  
Malcolm glanced at the clock and sighed, too. "Then I propose a shower."  
Trip twisted his head to follow his gaze, and cursed.  
"Time flies when you are having fun," the armory officer quipped.  
"Oh, and we had lots of it. So… when do we exchange presents?"  
Malcolm grinned. "You are one very single-minded man, Mr. Tucker."  
"Only when it's so much worth it, Mr. Reed."  
"Between shifts then? Meet me for a snack?"  
Trip kissed him quickly. "You got it."  
Malcolm shooed him off. "Go. Shower. You'll be late."  
"Yes, Mom."  
And with that, Trip headed off to the bathroom, whistling to himself.  
Malcolm smiled and leaned back against the wall, cushions stuffed behind his bare back. Delta shift was still some time away and he hadn't planned on leaving his lover's quarters before Trip did. He would do his own checks n the Armory, see if everything was calibrated and working… yes, that sounded like a plan.  
Perfect.


End file.
